


Shinra's Finest

by ClementRage



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:07:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2246739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClementRage/pseuds/ClementRage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joint security detail can be quite the chore, as can middle management. Now and again, though, a deep connection can be forged with a kindred soul.</p>
<p>For KittenFair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shinra's Finest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KittenFair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenFair/gifts).



The annual Shinra Ball in honour of the first Mako reactor was a highly anticipated event in the Midgar social calendar. It was also a security nightmare, not least because it was one of the few occasions when security for the night was a joint operation with Administrative Research. Lazard, who had a better eye than he was often given credit, usually lurked in a corner with good sightlines spying out his counterpart’s arrangements to pass the time.

Public Safety had rented an old fashioned hall for the occasion, with the harsh steel surfaces covered with velvet drapes, ascending three floors to a glass dome. The President was up top where he could make his speech later on, apparently unguarded, although if anyone struck at him they would soon find out just how apparent that illusion was. Palmer was on the ground floor among the masses, hitting the refreshments table, while most of the rest of the VIPs were on the third balcony. Lazard himself preferred the second floor, as it allowed him access to his subordinates with fewer disturbances while giving him a good view of events below.

                For instance, right now, Reno, too well known to be suitable for unobtrusive work, had clearly been assigned to diversion duty, drinking hard and being loud in the centre of the main hall. Whether he’d been told that was his assignment was another question, as people all across the room waited with bated breath to see whether he’d get drunk enough to hit on Sephiroth like last year. Meanwhile, the other redhead with the shuriken (a characteristic Wutai weapon, that, interesting choice,) circulated slightly more unobtrusively in a magnificent blue dress, so that attentive watchers could congratulate themselves on spotting her, while the short one with the knives escaped attention entirely. Ponytail woman with rifle was up top, watching the approaches, with Rude and Tseng on the doors. A solid set up.

“Sephiroth drawing eyes, Alexander circling, Angeal and Janson shadowing the VIPs. De Witt and Philips in corners covering the sightlines, Valeris on the balcony flirting with my sniper.” Without turning, Lazard raised his glass in salute. He hadn’t heard Veld approach, but then, you never did unless he wanted you to. How had he managed to sneak up on someone with his back to the wall? Either he’d been hiding in the drapes, or the room had some kind of secret passages installed. He should probably look into that, as joint head of security, but now wasn’t the time. He turned to the Turk.

“You have good eyes.” But not perfect. Grayson was dressed as a caterer in the atrium.

“Great minds, Director. The cat ears hairband was a stroke of genius, by the way.” Many soldiers would have hesitated, but Sephiroth hadn’t even blinked, considering it an order no different from any other. Even seasoned soldiers were giving him sidelong glances now, but Lazard was banking on the fact that no one would have the courage to ask why he had chosen to wear it.

“I try. As for yours…”Lazard went on to outline what he understood of Veld’s security arrangements, prompting a knowing smile from the head Turk. Theoretically, a spy would find their conversation most fruitful, but none would get close due to the aforementioned arrangements.

It was a game they had. Security detail was dull, they had to take their entertainment where it could be found, in between the two hundred iterations of ‘nothing to report, sir.’ Shinra had many enemies, but few quite stupid enough to try anything with a division of the army, a unit of SOLDIER, and a squad of Turks on full alert. Besides, they found each other surprisingly good company. Not many others understood the pressures of their job.

They stood in silent empathy for a while, and then Lazard said, “How’s work?” They both laughed, because that was one question a Turk could never answer to anyone outside their department. But then Veld sighed and said “Paperwork for another helicopter crash. I could be doing it now, if I didn’t have to be here.” He didn’t give any more detail, but that was enough.

“ _Another_ one?”, Lazard said, wincing. Form 657C, (with copies to Public Safety, Weapons, Urban Dev, and his own records) could take hours to complete. With the amount of equipment SOLDIER went through, it was something of an old nemesis of his. Shinra were willing to lose helicopters if necessary, but they made sure you suffered for it.

“I’m afraid so. The army pilots are refusing to take us anywhere now, so I’m going to have to pay for flying lessons for Reno.”

Lazard stroked his jaw, struck by a vision of an ad campaign of Angeal and Genesis firing gatling guns  while Sephiroth flew loop de loops. “Wish I’d thought of that. Do you realise how much equipment gets broken by Mako enhanced supersoldiers? At least your people don’t jump out of the moving ones.”

“Much.”

Lazard stared. “What?”

“I’ve to do the injury report too.”

“You can delegate that.”

“I run a black ops unit. They don’t believe in paper trails. At least where they tell the truth. Yours?”

“Most of them can’t hold a pen without breaking it.” Unfortunately, that was not disparaging their abilities, but the literal truth. SOLDIERs were for the most part perfectly literate and intelligent, but cheap pens had no chance against them. Since specially reinforced equipment cost too much to maintain en masse, most of the written reports fell to Lazard and his staff. Given the amount of paperwork necessary to authorise absolutely anything, they were quite busy.

Veld smiled. “The glamour of middle management. Did you realise what the job would entail, before you entered into it? What it would be like to be in charge?”

“Yes. I dreamt of it. I wave my hand, and with pen control the world.”

“And what do you dream of now?”

Silence from the SOLDIER Director. Then he laughed.

“Ha… look at us. Veld and Lazard, probably the two most feared individuals in the world. We whisper, and the world trembles in awe of the forces we can unleash. What are our jobs? Managing unruly children. …How is the vice-president, by the way?”

Veld shot him a sharp look. Lazard sighed.

“Yes, I’m asking so that I can assassinate him, and take his place without anyone noticing.”

Veld apparently conceded the point, or else just needed someone to talk to. “Still thinks he’s immortal. I’m training him to shoot with Tseng, trying to cure the habit, but he still wants to use a shotgun one handed, of all things.”

Lazard stayed silent, banishing his brief vision of his half-brother braining himself with the barrel of a shotgun. It was a mildly pleasant thought, but he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted. “And Felicia?”

“Bigger every time I see her. Wants to be in SOLDIER, I hear. Swordfighting instructor says she has talent, but I don’t see enough of her to say for myself.”

“We’re always looking for new people. Does she have references?”  Veld’s daughter would be an excellent recruit to have, no question. Not least because it would give him a hold over the man.

Veld shot him a very sharp glance. “How are your family?”

Lazard looked away. “Mother is fading. Late stages now. Dad –no, not him, you know who I mean- does his best, but it’s only a matter of time. No call for that, Turk.”

Veld sighed. “It’s a strange thing, to know that any time you ask after someone’s family they’ll take it as a threat. Part of my work, I suppose.”

“Lots of people think I run a department full of chained monsters. Surely you’re used to it.”

“I’m sorry.” He clearly wasn’t. “It’s just –Felicia. I sometimes dream about spending more time with  her, the day I can retire or am no longer needed. And yet, what kind of father should be so feared?”

“A nice dream. Believe it or not, I have something similar about my parents. One day, in a safer world.”

“You know, one of my partners used to say that unattainable dreams were the best kind. Granted, he was infatuated with his boss’ wife at the time…”

There was a crack from below, and they glanced down. Reno had finally overdone his distraction duty and stumbled into an artificial fern, shattering the ornate vase, and now five Shinra infantry were very slowly closing in, each glancing at his comrades in the vain hope that someone else would get there before they had to be the one to eject the trained black ops operative. How did getting riotously drunk make him _faster?_

The Turk with the knives began to wander in their direction. Veld sighed. “So much for dreams. Excuse me.”

Lazard held up his hands before the other man could leave.

“Veld, I respect your dream. And mine. I can tell you from the bottom of my heart that I hope it comes true for at least one of us.” _Perhaps sooner than you think._

Veld snorted. “Dreams are nice, but they’re still dreams.”

“Maybe, but even so. To unattainable dreams.”

Lazard raised his glass, and after returning the gesture Veld left to deal with the situation, which fortunately didn’t currently involve any SOLDIERs. 

That had been an illuminating conversation. Veld had good eyes. But he wasn’t without a blind spot or two. Once enough time had passed, more footsteps were heard, a far more tentative advance. Lazard gave a discreet hand signal, and several SOLDIERS in the room relaxed as he was approached once more.

Eyeing the newcomer, Lazard summoned his best regal stare and spoke. “Aren’t you one of Hojo’s people?”

His visitor glowered at him. Of course, Lazard knew perfectly well who the man was, but no other sentence would gall quite so much. To his credit, Hollander glared, yes, but kept his voice even.

“Not quite. You’re familiar with my… difficulties within the department?”

“As I understand things, you’re something of an outcast.”

Hollander nodded briefly. The professor had seen better days, his suit was distinctly rumpled, and he hadn’t properly combed his hair. But his eyes were still sharp, forcing Lazard to remind himself that once upon a time, this man had been one of the rising stars of Shinra. Then he had burned out, but was still someone to be watchful of. The man positively brimmed with hate, and hate was useful.

To his credit, he didn’t suspiciously glance at his surroundings before speaking. “Are we safe to talk?”

Lazard examined an imaginary spot of dust on his gloves. “Safer than my office. The bluecoats are all on security, so they can’t be listening. Someone in my position is rather closely watched, most of the time. Speak your piece, or leave. Your choice.”

There was a moment’s pause, then Hollander looked up “I have a proposition for you.”

He stroked his jaw. “Interesting. Aren’t I a little young for you, though?”

It wasn't that the Science department particularly lacked charm -Hojo in particular had a strange magnetic appeal born from his utter disdain for everyone he encountered- but if the default assumption on being approached by a member of that department was romantic, the implication was that you were dealing with someone so insignificant that they couldn't possibly have any other goal in mind.  
Hollander quietly seethed, but he’d spent too long wheedling funding from an unimpressed Gast to let such feelings compromise his sales pitch.

“Not what I meant. What could you do with an army of supersoldiers?”

The Director of SOLDIER said nothing. He didn’t need to. Hollander squirmed, which was all to the good, since anyone watching would assume he was being made fun of, and therefore not plotting treachery. And it was fun besides.

But the Professor wasn't finished. “I mean true power. You wouldn’t need to clean up after these ones, they’d follow your orders without question. ‘Director of SOLDIER’ could be a title with power, not a glorified clerk the way it is now. ”

Sharp insight. But… “Claims of supersoldiers have been made before. They all fall to SOLDIER, sooner or later. Do you think you have the means to defeat Sephiroth?”

“No. But we won’t need to.”

“Oh?”

“Genesis is on side.”

Lazard fixed the professor with a searching stare. Now _this_ was interesting. Sephiroth had few friends, and contrary to some newspaper reports, was generally disinclined to murder them on a whim (apart from that one LOVELESS incident, and nobody really blamed him for that). This was something new.

“Suppose I was interested… what did you need from me? Be plain, we can’t be seen talking for long.”

“I need certain supplies shipped to Wutai, and the commitment of a large number of SOLDIER.”

“Shipped to Wutai?” A diversion, or… “You’ve found some way to convert them.”

Hollander smiled thinly. He felt he was making his case. “Hojo will never know what hit him.”

“Your personal feud is no concern of mine.” For a start, he doubted it would be so simple. For all his many, many, _many_ faults, Professor Hojo did not scare easily. That said, if Hollander could manage it, he would wish the other man well.

Hollander shrugged. “Oh, believe me, I’m well aware of that. But I also believe we can help each other.”

Lazard let the silence stretch for a moment more, and put aside his glass.

“Alright. I’m interested. We’ll need to communicate through Genesis from now on, but I’ll give you a chance to impress me.”

“That’s all I need.”

They smiled at each other, and then separated. Both, of course, were already plotting betrayal, but that was no reason not to be friends. Especially when you've just been given the opportunity to realise your dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 1)"Something along the line of their departments interacting and the two sharing a moment of amused commiseration. Possible scenarios: joint mission briefings/assignments, requests for backup, during/before/after board meetings, break time discussion of subordinates - whatever you think up. Feel free to add in other Turks/SOLDIERs for flavor."
> 
> and
> 
> 3)"The unseen moment where Hollander approaches Lazard about turning against the company. Sticking to Lazard's canon agreement to join Hollander isn't a requirement - going as far as him making a decision isn't a requirement, either. Explore how it was brought up, and whatever it leads to."
> 
> The original plan was to do prompt number one, with a nod towards three at the end, but things got away from me because I felt they gelled pretty well. Hopefully that wasn't a false impression. Anyway, hope you enjoyed, it, giftee.


End file.
